


Inebriation and Inhibitions

by ticktockclockwork



Series: The Life and Times of Tick the Tock [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/pseuds/ticktockclockwork





	Inebriation and Inhibitions

It had all started out harmlessly enough. 

It always does, though, doesn’t it? Good intentions? Roads to hell? You know the rest. Well tonight was just the same but if this was hell then John was ready to be quite the sinner. 

The plan had been simple. Get into the club. Find the dealer. Get some of his product. Test it. If the results were positive, apprehend him. If not, move on. Short. To the point. But even the best laid plans could end up pear shaped in the end and John should not have been as surprised as he was when this one went as south as so many others. They’d decided they needed to at least dress the part and so Sherlock had gone to do some shopping while John finished up his short shift at the office that morning. He didn’t have any consultations, just some paperwork to finish up so he was able to get home by lunchtime. He found Sherlock already home, digging through far too many bags by his feet. 

“Oh good, you’re home. Try these on.” He threw a black garment of some sort that felt oddly like leather but... not. John didn’t like it already. When he found it had two legs and a VERY short waist, he liked it even less. 

“Are these pants?” He asked, looking up shocked. “For _MEN_?!” Sherlock met his gaze and looked at him as if he were asking a moronic question. “Of course. Now go try them on. With your black and white striped thing too. Yes. That will do. Hurry up, I need to see it to decide the rest. John was too shocked to really argue (and he knew it was frivolous anyways) and so he went to his room, shucked off his trousers, and wiggled his way into the pants. They were hella snug but made his ass look fabulous (not that he thought that, oh no) and so he pulled the shirt on as requested as well before heading downstairs. Walking in those pants was weird but they were just some sort of fake leather so they were more breathable than they looked. Unfortunate fact number two? John was too busy readjusting the waist to notice the hungry gaze Sherlock cast his way when he first saw him. 

“I think they’ll work. I feel like they’re ten seconds to ripping though.” John laid a hand over his soft belly and wrinkled his nose. 

“Stop it, you look fine. Good. Uhm, yes. That will work. Take it off, shower and them come back. We need to leave early, the drive will be long.” In the end, it took them a while to get ready anyways. When John came back down (after finding out it was much harder getting back into those pants with damp skin) he found Sherlock in a state he’d never expected to see him in. He was all in black, replacing that wonderful purple shirt with a button up black shiny deal. The arms remained down but the cuffs were unbuttoned. He had low riding dark jeans on and boots. Overall his outfit looks pretty tame but the eyeliner around his eyes was not. He held out a part of heavy boots for John which sat over the skinny pants and as he was putting them on Sherlock attached some useless suspenders to John’s pants, letting them drop by his waist. He then lifted his hands and mushed up John’s hair before stepping back and admiring his work. “Perfect.” 

John sighed and looked himself over. “I feel like a wayward over emotional teen in all this. Is this really necessary?” Sherlock snorted. “Entirely. Now come on, we need to go.” After that, it all went according to plan. The venue wasn’t inhabited by teenagers as John was expecting but more filled with adults in their late twenties early thirties. John still felt out of place but he didn’t let it show. He simply remained ignorant of the eyes that followed the both of them. “Do you need me for this?” He called to Sherlock over the din of the music. They’d spotted the dealer but he wanted a drink. Sherlock shook his head and slipped into the crowd as John went to the bar. Forty five minutes later the dealer was gone, the drugs ran negative and Sherlock was looking for John. 

He spotted him, not in the crowd, but instead tucked into a booth, being chatted up by a far too attractive woman. Wrong. Sherlock growled, seeing John laughing and pushed his way through the crowd. Sherlock had gussied John up. Sherlock had brought him here. SHERLOCK had done this. And so if anyone was going to reap the rewards of his efforts it was not going to be some middle aged hussy with a plunging neckline. (To be fair she was a perfectly respectable young woman with her whole life ahead of her, but Sherlock would never care to see that.) He slid his way to the table, set both hands atop as he leaned over and growled. “I think its about time you return to your party, miss.” 

She looked taken aback and pulled away, glancing to John. John didn’t seem at all surprised and was instead smirking. She waited no longer and slid away quietly. John was clearly intoxicated, even on a low level, with that stupid grin on his face and Sherlock was high on adrenaline and possessive vibes so he wasted no time putting a knee to the bench John was occupying and beginning to crawl over him. John turned to lay back more against the wall, one arm shifting up to touch the wall, the other reaching out to grab Sherlock’s shirt. “That wasn’t very nice.” He whispered and Sherlock could smell the liquor on his breath. It smelled sweet. He wanted to taste. 

“Well I don’t feel like being very nice. The lead was false. The dealers drugs were clean.” He whispered, leaning in to inhale John’s scent. 

“Mmm, that’s too bad. I’m sure you can figure it out nonetheless.” He murmured and Sherlock could feel the vibrations in his throat. Why he was being so possessive and aggressive without a lick of alcohol in his system he would never know, but John wasn’t complaining. Quite the contrary, he was urging Sherlock on. Which is why it was so easy to shove John up into the corner of that booth and devour him. Sherlock dove into the kiss, giving it hard all teeth and tongues and vulgarity. John didn’t seem to mind, returning the feverish kiss just as it was given, even arching up to pull Sherlock closer. Sherlock’s hand drifted down and grabbed under John’s knee, yanking it up as he thrust down against him and in no time at all they’d spiraled down from captured breaths to rough grinding. Sherlock doubted they were all that hidden and he knew that if John were sober he’d have a real problem with the hand undoing those tight as fuck leather pants, but right now John wasn’t and if Sherlock could get him home and fuck him senseless before he really sobered up, he was sure he could convince him to do it all again in the morning. Right now though, this would have to do. 

John groaned and yanked back to help, their hands fighting and tangling and pushing and twisting as John helped Sherlock shove down the waist of those pants to just halfway down his ass. Room enough to pull out his cock and that was all Sherlock wanted right now. He’d rip the rest of those clothes off when they got home, this was good for now. His sweaty hand wrapped around John and he gave him one pull which had the man dropping his head back and barely suppressing a deep moan. Sherlock ran his tongue clear up his throat and his thumb right over his head before picking up a pace of pump twist bite. John’s neck would be littered with marks tomorrow and he might not be able to talk his way out of those but he doubted he’d be adverse to the punishment. “Faster.” John wasn’t going to hold out with the alcohol in his system and Sherlock didn’t care to drag this out so he worked him fast, grinding down in between twists. John bucked and moaned and bucked and moaned and then white exploded behind his eyes. Sherlock slammed him into the wall and wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d come just at the sight of John right there and then. 

John only took a few minutes to come down before he was pulling his pants back up and grabbing at Sherlock. “Home. Now.” He ordered and Sherlock grinned, dragging him out of the bar and into a hailed cab. They barely made it home.


End file.
